


Laya

by HurricanesatDawn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-19
Updated: 2012-04-19
Packaged: 2017-11-03 22:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HurricanesatDawn/pseuds/HurricanesatDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian wakes up one morning alone with his boss on a private island. Sebastian really, really hates islands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laya

Sebastian had never been a huge fan of hammocks. He tended to fall off them within a matter of minutes. Which is inconvenient when you’re trying to, you know, bloody well sleep. He also has a habit of not trusting things that sway so easily in the breeze, but that’s an entirely different story.

It’s been approximately a week since Sebastian was knocked out cold in the middle of the night and transported to a deserted island somewhere in the Caribbean. He’s still not sure why, apart from the fact that his boss, Jim Moriarty, is a crazy arse fucker whose actions can never fully be explained. Jim does what he wants, when he wants to do it. There’s really no questioning him, either. He either gets angry and shoots the person that ‘dares to question him’, gives a blank stare and runs off on a tangent that just leaves the recipient so utterly confused that they can no longer remember the original question, or just ignores them until they go away.

So Sebastian resolves not to think about it too hard for the time being, instead he hangs onto the hope that Jim will wake up in a sharing mood one of these days and explain his line of reasoning on this. It’s not likely to happen, so mostly he resorts to refusing any attempts at conversation made and glaring at Jim whenever they’re together. 

It hasn’t deterred Jim from grinning at him and talking incessantly. He’s like a fucking puppy. And the look on his face when Sebastian first started the glaring. It was like someone ran over his box of kittens or something. Jesus fuck. How does a man that dangerous manipulate his face so much that he actually looks like the sweetest, most innocent person you’ve ever met? His heart practically melted the first time he saw that look on Jim’s face. It took all his willpower to remind himself that Jim was just preying on weaknesses and that it would end up lashing back at him.

It’s nine in the morning now and Sebastian has barely slept yet again. The wind was particularly strong the night before, and Sebastian spent most of it trying to both stay on his hammock and not think so much about the possibility of coconuts falling down onto the tent and hitting him on the head. Or the rest of his body. Sebastian had never liked coconut trees for that specific reason. Not to mention really, really hating coconuts.

Jim’s bound to get up soon. He’s probably well rested, too. Seeing as he had a nice little hut built for him before their arrival. Jim’s bed was big enough for two, and he’d had no problem offering one of the sides to Sebastian on the first day. He’s actually starting to regret that now, after six days of very little sleep, in a tent, underneath a cluster of coconut trees. But he stands to the principles that he had on the first day and refuses the offers Jim makes to him every night before bed, like clockwork.

Every day his resolve weakens just a bit more. It’s getting to the point where he can only vaguely remember his original reasoning on this. Jim will break him one of these days, he’s sure. It’s rather inevitable, really. It’s Jim Moriarty, how could he not manage to break everything on which he sets his sights?

The one good thing about this entire situation is that Jim was kind enough to remember Sebastian’s smoking habits, and packed him an entire crate of his favourite cigarettes. It’s probably the only reason he hasn't gone mental yet and tried to attack Jim. Before the month is out, Sebastian will have no doubt finished every single one in that crate, judging by how many he’s started smoking everyday just to deal with the stress of this whole thing.

Sebastian lets out a tired sigh and stabs out what’s left of his cigarette on the sand as he gets up. It’s time to change things up a bit, maybe flip Jim’s mattress over to wake him. The fucker deserves something like that happening to him. If it has the added bonus of Jim losing it and finding a way to kill him, then Sebastian certainly won’t complain. After all, it’ll get him off this godforsaken island.


End file.
